


Fire and Lightning (Caught Between)

by Fledgling



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Dirty Talk, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Season 2, Praise Kink, Relationship Negotiation (kind of), Smut, Thighs, Threesome - M/M/M, Touch-Starved Din Djarin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28697436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fledgling/pseuds/Fledgling
Summary: “Din wasn’t sure what he expected out of his return to Tatooine. Leave the Razor Crest II with Peli for repairs; stop by Mos Pelgo to see how the townspeople and Tuskens were getting along; see if Boba had any jobs that needed Din’s attention.Sitting sandwiched between Cobb Vanth and Boba Fett on a too small couch in Boba’s palace was not part of those plans.”It’s just Boba/Din/Cobb smut. That’s it.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Cobb Vanth, Din Djarin/Boba Fett, Din Djarin/Boba Fett/Cobb Vanth, Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth
Comments: 26
Kudos: 457





	Fire and Lightning (Caught Between)

**Author's Note:**

> Well. This was much longer than I expected to be. And that’s okay.  
> Also I blame the people on Discord for this. You know who you are.  
> And as always, you can find me on Tumblr [here](https://i-dnt-know-either.tumblr.com/)

Din wasn’t sure what he expected out of his return to Tatooine. Leave the _Razor Crest II_ with Peli for repairs; stop by Mos Pelgo to see how the townspeople and Tuskens were getting along; see if Boba had any jobs that needed Din’s attention.

Sitting sandwiched between Cobb Vanth and Boba Fett on a too small couch in Boba’s palace was not part of those plans.

Din barely remembered how they ended up there—Cobb had already been in the palace when Din had arrived, arguing with Boba over something that sounded trivial to Din’s ears. Then he had noticed the way they were standing, the way Boba’s eyes were smiling even if his mouth wasn’t, the way Cobb kept running his hand through his hair in a way that wasn’t-quite-frustration, but was supposed to look like it. It was easy to connect the dots from there—whatever they were arguing about was a cover, a half-truth to get them alone with each other so they could do what most people did when they were alone together.

Din had started to back out of the room but they had both stopped him—Boba with a few well-placed words and a look, Cobb more physically with a hand pressed to the small of his back. They had led him from one room to another, and now they were on the couch, Cobb practically in Din’s lap. They were still talking about something, but whatever it was blew right over Din’s head. Every few minutes Boba would press more firmly into Din’s side, gesturing with one arm while the other remained over the back of the couch—right behind Din’s head, actually. If he wasn’t moving then it was Cobb, squirming in his seat, wiggling to get more comfortable in the limited space.

Din was going insane. He had half a mind to try and leave again, but—

But he really did enjoy the other two men’s company. They were the closest thing he had to friends, people he trusted and cared about and who returned the favor. And, if he was being honest with himself (something he didn’t do very often but was trying to improve upon) he _enjoyed_ the contact, enjoyed the press of their bodies against him. He was aware that he was what most would call ‘touch starved’, aware that a lifetime of being armored made him desperately crave any sort of contact with another person.

He was also aware of the fact that he was, undoubtedly, attracted to both of them: Cobb with his easy smiles and magnetic charm, fiery and animated; Boba with his steady presence that demanded attention, his level voice and steely gaze. They were complete opposites in every way; even physically, Cobb’s lean frame a counterpoint to Boba’s much broader one. Din fit in the middle, in every sense, and it left him somewhat off kilter, unsure what he was supposed to do. He had very little experience with approaching one person, let alone two. He wasn’t even sure what it was he wanted from them anyway; the physical attraction was obvious and apparent, but there was something else, something that drew him back to Tatooine again and again, that had nothing to do with attraction and everything to do with how much he simply _liked_ the other two men.

Any further thoughts on the matter were promptly scattered when Boba, at the end of making another wide gesture with his arm, let his hand settle on Din’s thigh instead of back in his own lap. His palm curved around the beskar armor, the tips of his fingers brushing the fabric of Din’s flightsuit where the armor ended at the inside of his thigh. Din sucked in a breath, thankfully too quiet to be picked up by his helmet. Before he could even begin to gather his thoughts back together Cobb’s hand brushed against the back of his head, fingertips somehow finding the tiny gap between helmet and cloak and brushing the bare skin there. An electric feeling danced down Din’s spine and this time his gasp was audible to the other two as well.

“Everything alright there, Din?” Cobb asked. The concern in his voice was a direct contrast to the sharp grin he wore.

“What—” Din licked suddenly dry lips, “what are you two _doing_?”

“Is it not obvious?” Boba asked from his other side. His fingers twitched on Din’s thigh, the tips digging into the inside.

“I don’t—I thought you two were,” Din tried to find the word he wanted, settled on, “involved.”

“We are,” Boba grinned, not as sharp as Cobb’s but still the grin of a predator. “We would like to _involve_ you as well.”

Heat flooded through Din.

“If you’re interested, of course,” Cobb was quick to add.

If he was interested.

Din looked between the two of them. They were watching him intently, waiting on a hair trigger for his answer. Din knew, innately, that if he said no they’d let him go without another word.

He didn’t want to say no.

“What do you want from me?”

Their gazes shifted from him to each other, a brief, silent conversation passing between them—or maybe the remnants of an old conversation, one they had already had.

“Whatever you want to give us,” Boba said eventually. “If you want this to be a one-time thing, then it will be. If you want something more...substantial, then we can give you that too.”

“Either way, we just want to take care of you,” Cobb said. “If you’ll let us.”

The way he said the phrase made another wave of heat flood through Din. He swallowed and nodded. When neither of them moved, he cleared his throat.

“I am interested...in something more substantial.”

The last part came out in a whisper, hoping that he wasn’t pushing for too much even though they had been the ones to put the offer on the table.

The last syllable left his lips and Cobb pressed harder against him, nuzzling into Din’s neck.

“Of course, _little_ _prince,_ ” Boba growled.

Din shuddered. Boba had used the nickname before, in reference to Din’s (thankfully brief) role as wielder of the Darksaber. Before it had been teasing, if not a little affectionate—now it sent a thrill through Din he didn’t have the brainpower to think about as Cobb’s nuzzling turned into biting, teeth and tongue grazing any bit of Din’s neck he could find.

“Let us take care of you, Din,” Cobb drawled, warm breath puffing against Din’s neck. “Let us make you feel _good_.”

Din nodded.

Boba and Cobb stood, each one taking one of his hands and pulling him to follow. Cobb glued himself to Din’s side as Boba led them deeper into the palace, his fingers dancing along Din’s side where his armor didn’t cover. His heart was thundering in his ears, and he was beginning to feel dizzy. Cobb’s fingers dipped under the cuff of his glove, teasing the inside of his wrist with featherlight touches as they walked. It made Din’s breath catch in his throat.

Boba was leading them to his bedroom, as it turned out. Din had half a second to marvel at the size of the bed—it would fit the three of them with room for several other people as well—before Boba spun around and began undoing the buckles of Din’s chestplate. Cobb began on Din’s pauldrons, the ease with which he slid them off making Din wonder idly how much practice he had removing Boba’s armor. There was no jealousy in the thought; rather, a desire to see it happen in person, to experience what he had been missing out on.

With each piece of armor they removed—and each piece was set aside with care—more of Din became available for them to touch. They took greedy advantage of it, hands caressing and groping through the flightsuit Din still wore. He was already hard, and he would have been embarrassed if not for the occasional press of a similar hardness against him. His breath hitched as they reached for a thigh guard each, Cobb nuzzling into his hip as his fingers danced along the straps wrapped around his thigh, finding and following a seam up to his groin, though he avoided touching Din’s dick.

“We’re going to have so much fun taking you apart,” Boba hissed. “I can’t wait to hear what sounds you make.”

The thigh guards joined the rest of the armor, and Din hastily kicked off his own boots as Cobb set about helping Boba with his armor. They traded wet kisses as they worked, groans slipping out between them. Din’s hands lifted to his own helmet—neither of them had made any sort of move towards it, for which Din was thankful—and pulled it off with a quiet hiss of air. He had removed his helmet in front of them before, trusted them with it, yet their eyes immediately snapped to him regardless.

“Beautiful as always, little prince,” Boba muttered, taking the shed pieces of his own armor and setting them onto a stand made for that purpose.

Cobb kicked his own boots off and pressed himself chest to chest with Din. Din was still reeling at the sensation of full-body contact when Cobb’s hands found his face, framing it as he leaned in. Din whined into the kiss, his hands scrabbling for purchase and landing eventually on the marshal’s sharp hips. His whole body was electrified, the feeling growing as Cobb licked his way into Din’s mouth. He was peripherally aware of Boba returning, though it still made him gasp to feel him press against his back, sandwiching him between the other two men. The world spun around him as Boba’s hands found his thighs, petting them through the flightsuit.

“You have turned your body into a weapon,” Boba said, pressing a kiss to the back of Din’s neck. “Such beauty, in that.”

Din squirmed, whining into Cobb’s mouth. Cobb chuckled, pulling back to press a kiss to his cheek, his hands sliding down to Din’s neck.

“Do you like us calling you beautiful?” he whispered. “Do you want us to tell you how much we want you? How much we want to drive you wild?”

Din couldn’t answer with anything other than a breathy groan. A hand found the zipper on his flightsuit, pulling it down, down, _down,_ and then they were tugging it off of him, his undershirt and underwear following quickly behind. He became acutely aware of how dressed the other two still were, and he reached out, one hand tangling in the black fabric of Boba’s clothes, the other in Cobb’s red scarf.

“Getting impatient?” Boba chuckled. “I suppose it wouldn’t do to keep our little prince waiting too long, would it?”

Din shivered, a combination of the pet name and way Boba’s fingers traced down his spine, his lips pressing into his shoulder. Cobb’s hands left him and made quick work of his own clothes, not being anywhere as careful with them as he had been with Din’s armor. Boba pressed a trail of kisses to Din’s other shoulder, wrapping his arms around Din’s waist and pulling him against him. The lips were replaced with teeth, the sharp contrast in sensation as Boba sank his teeth into the place between Din’s neck and shoulder causing him to keen and arch against him. His body was on fire, every nerve alight.

“Look at you,” Cobb marveled, retaking his place against Din’s front, his fingers skimming across Din’s collarbone, down his chest to his stomach, pressing his palm flat against it and splaying his fingers as wide as they would go.

Boba pulled away from Din then, and Cobb’s other hand found the small of Din’s back, pressing firmly so they were flush. Their cocks rubbed against each other and Din moaned, the sound echoing through the room. The moan climbed in pitch as Cobb’s teeth found the same spot Boba’s had on the opposite side of his neck, and Din’s hips stuttered.

“That’s it,” Cobb groaned, “let us hear all the lovely sounds you can make.”

Cobb ground his hips against Din’s and Din threw his head back, unable to stop himself from grinding back against him. Cobb took ready advantage of the exposed column of his throat, teeth and tongue sending electric shocks through him. A sigh to his left caught his attention and he turned his head enough to see a now naked Boba leaned against the bed, eyes trained on the two of them as he slowly stroked his cock.

“What a pretty pair you two make,” Boba said, voice low and rough.

Cobb hummed against Din’s neck, glancing at Boba. He didn’t offer any comment, however, continuing to nip and suck at Din’s neck. He was going to have so many marks when this was all over, and the thought sent a hot thrill through him—no one would see the marks, but the three of them would _know_ they were there.

Boba pushed himself off the bed and rejoined the two of them, taking Din’s chin in his hand and turning him to face him. Boba stared at him for a second before leaning in and claiming Din’s mouth, teeth pulling at his bottom lip before he let go, his tongue soothing the minor sting left behind. One of his hands grazed Din’s ribs, finding a scar left behind years ago by a piece of shrapnel and following its path around to his back.

“Tell us, darling,” Cobb said, his mouth trailing up from Din’s neck to his jaw, “what would you like? How do you want us to wreck you?”

Din shivered, trying and failing to find his voice; all that left his mouth was a garbled mess of sounds as Boba turned his attention to Din’s chest, fingers taking a nipple and tweaking it as he kissed along the line of Din’s collarbone. Cobb was still rutting against him, destroying any attempts Din made at coherent thought.

“Do you want us to stuff your pretty holes, little prince?” Boba purred. “Do you want us to take you apart, fuck you until you can’t take it anymore?”

“Yes, please,” Din breathed.

“Please what?”

Din whined, “Please, fuck me until I can’t take it anymore.”

Din had half a second to feel embarrassed by the admission before he was being attacked, hands and mouths blanking out his mind as they traversed his body. He realized distantly that they were guiding him towards the bed, and then he was being pushed, sinking into the plush green blanket that covered the bed. It was the same dark green as Boba’s armor—and it had to be like that by design. Cobb followed him onto the bed, straddling his hips and leaning over him, caging his head in with his forearms as he captured his lips in another filthy, wet kiss. Between the silk of the blanket and the skin on skin contact from Cobb, Din’s whole body was prickling with sensation. The fingers that danced over his shoulders and down his arms rose goosebumps in their wake, and Din gasped against Cobb’s lips.

“You’re so sensitive, darling,” Cobb said, something like awe in his voice. “Oh, the things we’re gonna _do_ to you.”

“Please,” Din panted, though he had no idea what he was asking for.

Cobb chuckled and slid off of him, settling against mountain of pillows at the headboard. Boba was quick to take his place, a broad palm pressing against Din’s sternum as he kissed him. The hand traveled down, sweeping over the slight swell of Din’s stomach and settling just above Din’s cock, close enough that Din could feel the heat of it yet just far enough that there was no actual contact. Din tilted his hips up to try and slip the hand that little bit lower, and gasped as Boba’s hand instead kept him flat on the mattress.

“Now now, little prince,” Boba purred. “There’s no need to get ahead of ourselves. The fun is just beginning.”

Din whined, turning his head towards Cobb in the hopes of some sympathy. The marshal just grinned sharply, stroking his own cock leisurely as he watched Boba bite a path down to one of Din’s nipples. Din’s back left the bed as Boba tongue laved over it, a sharp gasp ripped from his throat. His hands dug into the blanket, twisting it as he tried desperately to control his reactions.

A hand found one of Din’s, untangling it from the blanket and slotting their fingers together. Through mostly closed eyes Din saw Cobb rejoining him, lifting Din’s hand to his lips and pressing staccato kisses to his knuckles. He pressed the hand back against the bed, capturing the other one too. He leaned down, nuzzling against Din’s throat.

“Let yourself go, Din,” he whispered. “We’ve got you, don’t worry.”

Din shuddered, though the motion was cut off as Boba’s hand finally, _finally_ wrapped around his dick and his hips jumped off the bed. Boba didn’t move, watching as Din fucked into the loose fist, unable to control himself. It was just enough to get him excited, to send shocks of pleasure curling through him, but that was all. There was nothing he could do about it though; Cobb’s hold on his hands was solid, and Boba’s free hand was squeezing his hip, could easily stop him if he wanted.

He was trapped. The thought didn’t frighten him though—he trusted Cobb and Boba, trusted them to take care of him. If anything, it _excited_ him, a spike of adrenaline singing through him.

Boba’s kissed along the line of his hip, down to the inside of his thigh where his fingers had been earlier—and how long ago had that been, that they were on the couch? Minutes? Hours? Din had no idea, and as Boba’s teeth sank into the inside of his thigh he found he didn’t care.

“You have such nice thighs, sweetheart,” Cobb praised. “Such nice everything, really, but the way your legs look is just art.”

Din squirmed, both from Boba’s continued onslaught and Cobb’s words.

“Did I ever tell you about what I thought when I first saw you in my cantina?” Cobb continued. “Before anything else, my very first thought was: that is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. And ya know, you keep making me think that every time I see you.”

Din flushed under the sincerity.

“You didn’t even know what my face looked like until recently,” he deflected between gasps.

“Didn’t need to. But it is just as beautiful as the rest of you.”

“Our beautiful little prince,” Boba agreed, satisfied with the collection of marks he had left of Din’s inner thigh. Din wondered if he’d be able to feel them when he put his flightsuit back on, if the seam would rub across them and remind him of their existence with each step he took. It probably would; he _hoped_ it would.

Boba’s hand suddenly tightened around Din’s cock, enough that on the next thrust Din’s nerves lit up as he finally got the friction he had been seeking. He keened, his hips stuttering in their rhythm. Just as soon as it happened Boba’s grip relaxed again, and Din whined at sudden loss. They were moving him again, Cobb returning to the mass of pillows and tugging Din with him, pulling him to straddle Cobb’s waist. Boba followed close behind, his hands leaving Din’s body for only a few moments before they returned to his hips. Cobb cupped the back of Din’s head and pulled him into a kiss, his fingers tangling in the soft brown curls. Boba’s hands rubbed little circles into Din’s hips before sliding back, grazing the skin of Din’s ass. Din hissed against Cobb’s lips, his skin prickling at the new sensation.

“So sensitive,” Boba mused, echoing Cobb’s earlier statement.

He took a cheek in each hand and squeezed, chuckling at the moan it pulled from Din. The hands found his hips again and tugged, pulling him back until he was on his hands and knees. Cobb’s hand was still in his hair, petting him as Din settled into the new position. Boba’s hands returned to Din’s ass, squeezing and stroking if only to see what noises he could pull from Din. It was working—Din couldn’t stop the soft gasps that escaped with every exhale, the groan when Cobb tightened his hold and tugged at the brown curls in his grasp.

None of it compared to the whine that left his mouth when Boba’s fingers, slick with lube, found Din’s entrance.

Din shuddered, caught between pressing back against the single finger slowly breaching him and pulling away as fire licked through his veins. The choice was taken from him by Boba’s hand on his hip, the grip firm enough to leave bruises as it kept him in place.

“Oh Din, sweetheart,” Cobb murmured, settling his hand under Din’s chin and lifting his face so Cobb could look him in the eye. The marshal’s pupils were blown wide with lust, a direct contrast to the affectionate expression he wore as a swiped his thumb along Din’s bottom lip.

Without thinking Din opened his mouth and lapped at the pad of his thumb, letting the pleased hum Cobb let out wash over him. The thumb pressed against the flat of his tongue when he did it again, and then slid into his mouth. Din groaned, and the thumb pulled back.

“Wanna get your tongue on something else, sweetheart?” Cobb asked. The hand still curled in his hair pushed down—enough pressure to be just a suggestion, not an order. Din went easily, lowering until his chest was just a few inches from the bed and nuzzling against Cobb’s inner thigh.

One finger became two inside of him, and Din muffled his moan against Cobb’s leg. Boba was pressing a line of kisses up his spine, and Din mirrored them along Cobb’s thigh until he reached the base of his cock. He pressed his tongue against it, slowly dragging it up to the tip. He had very little experience with this—enough that it was practically zero—but he wanted to do it right, _wanted_ to make the other two feel as good as they were making him feel.

Cobb’s hand resumed its petting as Din took the head in his mouth, delighting in Cobb’s pleased groan above him. He went slowly, bobbing his head up and down, taking a little bit more each time. He didn’t think he’d be able to take all of it, not without more practice—and the thought of this happening _again_ , with both of them or maybe even just one, sent a thrill through Din that started in his groin and left his mouth in a moan, the sound muffled around Cobb’s cock.

“You like this?” Cobb said through another groan. “Like having both of us give you attention?”

Din didn’t bother trying to answer verbally, pressing back into Boba’s fingers and sucking hard on Cobb instead. Boba swore behind him, the hand on his hip squeezing once. The fingers left him, and Din whimpered at the loss.

“Patience little one,” Boba soothed, thumb rubbing circles on his hip.

Then the head of his cock was pressing at Din’s entrance.

Din’s hands scrambled against the blanket, eventually finding Cobb’s thighs and holding them, needing something to ground him to reality as lightning raced up his spine. Boba was relentless, pressing in and in and _in,_ not stopping until his hips were flush with Din’s ass, both his hands now gripping Din’s hips. There was a constant, high-pitch whine coming from somewhere nearby—it took Din a second to realize it was coming from his own throat.

“That’s it, little prince,” Boba praised, one hand gliding from his hip to rub the small of his back. “You’ve taken me so well. I knew you would.”

“Such a good boy for us,” Cobb added, stroking over Din’s cheek with his knuckles.

Din’s brain was gone—between the physical sensations and the verbal onslaught, his thoughts were little more than static and a litany of _feels good, Boba, Cobb, kriff._

Boba pulled out slowly, getting half way out before he stopped and slid back home. Din groaned, returning his attention to Cobb’s cock as Boba set a slow, even pace, each thrust licking heat over Din’s nerves. Cobb sighed, the hand on Din’s cheek moving down, his thumb tracing Din's bottom lip where it was stretched around his cock.

“Stars above, darling, you’re so pretty like this,” he panted. “Stretched open at both ends, mindless with pleasure. Absolutely beautiful.”

That was all Din could take.

With a startled shout he was cumming, jumping and shuddering as he spilled onto the blanket. Boba groaned, the sound punched out of him as Din tightened around his cock. Both of Cobb’s hands cupped his jaw, pulling him off of his cock and up, their mouths meeting in a sloppy, near-desperate kiss that was mostly tongue.

“Good, that’s so good Din,” he said against his lips.

Boba pressed flush to his back, and Cobb guided Din’s head to turn, meeting Boba in a searing kiss as well. Boba ground into him, and Din cried out, nerves still raw in their sensitivity. Boba didn’t stop; if anything, it seemed to encourage him, his hips rolling against Din’s. Each movement ripped a whine from Din’s throat, already sore from use.

“That’s it, let us hear you,” Boba purred in his ear. “Let us know your pleasure.”

The grinding turned into proper thrusts, Boba using his steel grip on Din’s hips to pull him back into each one. Cobb was pressing kisses to his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, lips and tongue and teeth blazing a trail across too sensitive skin. He was stripped down, rubbed raw in the best way, and didn’t realize he was crying until Cobb made a soft noise and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Oh, darling,” he hushed, pressing a tender kiss under each eye. “Is it too much? Do you want us to stop?”

It was too much.

He absolutely did _not_ want them to stop.

Boba’s thrusts faltered as he waited for an answer and Din hissed, pressing back against him.

“Don’t stop. _Please._ ”

Cobb and Boba shared a look over his shoulder, and then Boba’s thrusts resumed. A series of biting kisses trailed across his shoulders as Cobb pulled him into another wet kiss. Din’s right hand trailed up Cobb’s thigh until he found his cock, taking it in hand and stroking in time with Boba’s thrusts. This, at least, he had some experience in, even if it was just with his own hand on himself. Cobb moaned against his lips, and Din ducked down, running on instinct as he nuzzled against his throat. Cobb tilted his head back to give him better access, and Din took ready advantage, nipping along the line of his collarbone.

Boba’s thrusts were losing their rhythm and his swearing was increasing as he crept closer to the edge. He bowed over Din, pressing his forehead between Din’s shoulder blades.

“You feel so good, Din,” Boba murmured. “So tight around me, so wonderful.”

Din groaned against Cobb’s skin. He was getting hard again, his head spinning.

Boba lifted his head, bringing his lips closer to Din’s ear to growl, “Can I cum inside of you, little prince?”

Din shuddered and nodded.

“Let me hear you say it,” Boba continued with a particularly hard thrust.

“Yes, please, cum inside of me,” Din whined, writhing between the two men.

“Kriff, I—”

Boba sank his teeth into Din’s shoulder as he came, grinding desperately against his ass. Din whined, the sound twisting into a moan halfway through. Boba released his teeth and pressed a kiss to the spot, softer than Din expected and sending a shiver down his spine. He pulled out with a groan, and Din gasped at the sudden emptiness.

He didn’t have too long to think about it as Cobb’s hands found his shoulders and pushed, sending him onto his back with his head pillowed against one of Boba’s thighs.

“Can I have you too, darling?” Cobb asked, fingers teasing around Din’s entrance as he peppered kisses around his chest, down his stomach.

“Yes,” Din gasped.

Cobb hummed, hooking his hands under Din’s knees and settling them around his hips. Boba’s hands were stroking along Din’s shoulders, down his chest, taking a nipple between his fingers and rolling it. The sharp jolt of pleasure was enough of a distraction that Din didn’t realize Cobb was positioning himself until he was pushing in. Din’s mouth opened in a silent cry as he was filled again. Cobb rocked against him a few times as he bottomed out, before pressing his hands into the bed on either side of Din’s torso and setting a quick, sharp rhythm. Din gasped on each thrust, turning his head to the side and trying to muffle his sounds against Boba’s thigh. Boba chuckled and grasped his jaw in one hand, turning his head away.

“None of that now,” Boba purred. “There’s no need to hide from us, little one. We want to see you enjoy yourself, want to hear you let go.”

Din whined, and Boba smoothed his other hand down his chest and stomach, as if trying to sooth a frightened animal.

“You’ve done so well, taking us both little prince,” Boba continued. His hand was creeping lower.

“You feel so good,” Cobb groaned, bowing his head to press a fleeting kiss over the spot where Din’s heart was threatening to beat out of his chest. “Truly amazing, sweetheart.”

Boba’s hand cupped Din’s cock, palm pressing down over the head. He didn’t move it, let the movement of Din’s body from Cobb’s thrusts do all the work. Din writhed, gasping with each movement, the sound climbing steadily in pitch.

“Cum for us, Din.”

Din howled as his vision went white. There was a ringing in his ears, and the sound of his own heartbeat. Beneath that he could here Cobb’s moan as he stilled, hips twitching as he came.

Din floated between them, his body twitching with every breath. Hands—he wasn’t sure whose, maybe both—were stroking gently over his torso, his shoulders, his thighs. Voices, too, somewhere above him, Boba’s low rumble and Cobb’s softer drawl. He hissed as Cobb pulled out, the sudden change bringing him closer to awareness, but not pulling him fully from the floating feeling. One of them moved away and then returned, and a cool, wet cloth ran across Din’s skin. He whimpered, the temperature and texture of the cloth shocking to his oversensitive skin. It didn’t leave, but a hand did find his hair, stroking it back from his forehead.

The cloth left eventually, and Din was being gently pulled, rearranged. He opened his eyes—when he had closed them, he wasn’t sure—to see Cobb smiling at him, expression full of affection.

“Are you alright?” he asked, stroking his thumb over the ridge of Din’s cheekbone.

Din nodded, unable to find his voice. Cobb pressed a kiss to his forehead, his hand trailing down Din’s neck, shoulder, settling on his waist. The bed shifted behind him, and Din turned his head with some effort to look at Boba as he lay down, pressing his chest to Din’s back.

“You did very good, little one,” he praised, pressing their foreheads together.

Cobb scooted closer, until he and Din were chest to chest. He pressed a kiss to one of the dozens of marks that littered Din’s skin, his hand running back and forth along his waist. Boba’s arm slipped around Din, his hand resting on Cobb’s hip.

There were thoughts bouncing around in Din’s head—what happens now, where did this go, was it just sex or something more—but he couldn’t find the energy to give them voice, his eyes sliding closed.

“Go to sleep, darling, we’ll be here when you wake up.”

Din gave half a nod, letting himself drift off secure between the two of them. For the first time in a long time, he slept well.

**Author's Note:**

> Please join me in imagining Din Djarin, covered in bite marks and hickeys, sandwiched between Boba and Cobb. And then having to get up and armor up and being able to feel every mark left behind.


End file.
